End of the Road
by TheSumOfAllCasey
Summary: The year is 2016. Ian and Anthony have been in a relationship for the past year and a half. But lately, their love has started to fade away and the two men fight all the time. Is a break up coming? Ianthony. Rated T for language (as always).
1. End of the Road

The regret was immediate, gushing in to replace the fury that had been there seconds before. As soon as the hurt began to fully register in Anthony's earth-brown eyes, Ian was left wishing more than anything that he could take back his words.

But they had already done their job, cutting through the air between the two men, and with it that invisible line that had bonded them since sixth grade.

"Anthony…" Ian started to say, but the hurt was already gone from the other man's eyes, replaced by cold fury.

"Fuck you, Ian," he spat and turned away. He only paused long enough to gather Pip in his arms before he made for the door. The slam of it blew a gust of air in Ian's face, but he hardly felt it.

_Oh shit, oh shit. What have I done?_

Years ago, Anthony had joked on a podcast about how hard it was to read Ian's emotions. He'd suggested that his friend might have years of pent-up hatred and anger building inside him, waiting to explode out. That hadn't been true at the time, but now… things were a lot different between the two boys of Smosh. Lately, they'd been fighting so much that Ian couldn't help but build up a reservoir of harsh words and resentment. Tonight, the dam had broken and all his rage flooded out in an uncontrollable rush.

He'd said a dozen things that couldn't be taken back and at least twenty more that would burn for a while. And all of that relentless anger had been aimed directly at Anthony with the intent to wound. Anthony, who was his first real friend and second real lover.

Anthony, who probably wouldn't even want to _look _at Ian after the shit he'd said.

Ian sank to the floor, all his strength gone now that the heat of the fight was over. It wasn't his first argument with Anthony—not by a long shot. But it was definitely the most intense. Never had they said such hurtful, hate-fueled things to each other. This fight felt so final, like the damage done couldn't be taken back, like they'd reached a point of no return.

Ian sighed. Maybe they _had _reached a point of no return. After all their worst fights, he was always left to wonder if they even really still loved each other anymore, or if their feelings had been corroded away by time and work and stress. He put his head in his hands. Maybe there was no hope for his and Anthony's relationship. Maybe this was the end of the road.

The worst part about that thought was that it came with a hint of something like relief.

* * *

_We need to talk. I'll be there in 30 mins._

Anthony didn't allow himself to pause before hitting "Send" and letting his phone deliver the text to Ian.

It was almost a week after their big fight and the hurt of Ian's words had worn off enough that Anthony was fairly sure he'd be able to stand being around his boyfriend without wanting to punch him.

_God, are we even still boyfriends? Or are we exes at this point? _ He still thought of Ian as his boyfriend—soulmate, lover, other half, etc.—but that was mostly out of habit at this point. God knows boyfriends didn't usually end up shouting insults and cusswords at each other every other day.

Their relationship hadn't always been this bad. For the first year that they'd been together, Ian and Anthony had gotten along perfectly—their decade-long friendship made for a smooth transition into romantic partnership. It had been blissful: all gentle kisses and kind words and passionate nights. During that year, their lives were at their peaks and the world seemed infinite. The videos they produced for Smosh were some of their best ever because the two had become so in sync and comfortable with each other. They took a month-long break from Smosh over the summer, though, and travelled the world together. They moved into the same apartment and started planning how they'd spend the rest of their life together.

But, as always in life, the good days couldn't last forever.

Now, after six brutal months of non-stop relationship issues, Anthony was in his Volt, driving back to his and Ian's apartment. He hadn't set foot in the place since their fight five days prior. He and Pip had taken up temporary residence in Joven and Wes's apartment, which had ended up suiting them just fine. Of course, not even Joven and Wes's best efforts had been able to cheer Anthony up, but it was nice to have friends who were there to support him.

A pang went through him as he realized that, once upon a time, his go-to, always-supportive friend would have been Ian. _Those were the days, _he couldn't help but think. Things had been so simple and perfect back then. _I have to see if Ian and I can get back to that point. _

Because if they couldn't go back to being friends and their relationship continued to be the train wreck it had been lately, then Smosh—and everything Anthony had been doing during the last twelve years of his life—would have to end.

* * *

It felt immensely weird to be knocking on the door to his own apartment, but Anthony did so anyway. Hopefully, Ian wouldn't decide not to let him in. Hopefully, he'd actually be willing to talk in a civil manner. Hopefully, this meeting wouldn't end in another fight.

Ian opened the door after only twenty seconds. His expression was carefully blank, but Anthony knew him well enough to detect the stiffness in his posture and the residual hurt and anger in his eyes.

They stared at each other for a few moments while Anthony tried to drown out the last words Ian had said to him as they replayed in his head. The sight of his crystal blue eyes, stupid bowl haircut, and clean-shaven cheeks (incidentally, Anthony always preferred it when Ian had a beard—was that part of why he'd shaved recently?) brought a potent mixture of broken love and brewing anger to the forefront of Anthony's mind.

"Anthony," Ian said curtly by way of greeting.

"Hi, Ian. Can I come in?"

God, this was so weird. Why did it feel so much like when he'd tried to remain friends with Kalel after their breakup?

"Of course," Ian responded, but there was nothing gracious or welcoming in his tone. "This is your place too."

Anthony just nodded and stepped inside. Daisy bounded up to him, wagging, and gave him a greeting that was a thousand times more welcoming than Ian's had been. Anthony scratched the German shepherd's ears affectionately and tried to ignore her owner, who was standing just behind him and not saying a word.

Anthony straightened and walked farther into the apartment. The place was absurdly clean—cleaner than it'd ever been since Ian and Anthony moved in. Anthony quirked an eyebrow. Evidently Ian's way of coping with his emotions was by distracting himself. This observation made Anthony kind of sad and kind of illogically angry.

"So, Anthony, what are you doing here? I kind of thought you were gone for good." Ian's tone provided no hints regarding whether he'd hoped that would be the case or desperately wished that it wouldn't.

His inability to read Ian was already starting to piss Anthony off, but he told himself to remain calm. _You're not here to fight._ "Ian, we need to talk. About us and the future."

Ian frowned. "Let's sit down then."

They took seats across from each other at the dining room table and Anthony was once again harshly reminded of how _weird _this was. They'd hardly ever sat at this table in the years that they'd lived here.

"Our relationship's a mess," Anthony said bluntly, deciding to dive right into the central issue. "Hell, I'm not even sure we _have _a relationship at this point, but whatever. We've got to fix it."

"If you're looking for an apology—"

Anthony held back a sigh. "I won't get one. I know. All I want is to talk about what we're going to do. If we break up, what happens to Smosh?"

Ian looked away from Anthony. "I don't know," he said tensely.

"Yeah. And that's why I'm here." He gave up trying to hold back his sigh and exhaled heavily. "Look, I think we both know we're not going to be able to be romantic partners at this point. Shit, that's been obvious for months now, I just…." He cleared his throat, not wanting to admit how much he'd fought against the notion that his relationship with Ian was ending. "Anyway, I think we need to see if we can go back to being friends, or at least, you know, get to a point where we can stand to make videos together."

"No," Ian said firmly, crossing his arms and redirecting his attention to Anthony. "You think we can just go back to being friends after all this? It's not gonna happen."

"I know it doesn't seem likely, and it's probably about as desirable to you as it is to me, but what's going to happen to Smosh if we can't manage to get along?"

"It ends. Smosh is _us, _Anthony, and it always has been. If our relationship is over, then Smosh is too."

Anthony felt a cold trickle of dread deep in his gut at Ian's words, but he covered it with the heat of an angry scoff. "Is this your way of saying you want us back together? Because that's a hell of a lot different from what you seemed to want last time I saw you."

Ian scowled at him. "No, I'm saying that after all we've been through, we can never go back to what we were. It's not going to work."

"Great," Anthony snarled, fed up with Ian disagreeing all the time. "Aren't you just so fucking helpful, Hecox."

"Why the hell should I be helpful?" Ian growled back.

"I'm just trying to figure this out, goddammit! We can't abandon our life's work and the twenty-five million people who love us for it just because we're fighting every other fucking day!" Anthony bolted to his feet and started pacing around the dining room, running a hand through his hair over and over, damning the fact that he'd spent half an hour carefully styling it that morning. How the hell had his control of his temper slipped away from him so fast?

He turned back to Ian and sighed again, this time blowing out as much air from his lungs as he could. "We're not going to fix anything if we're fighting," he said woodenly, looking at the table rather than his former lover. "Let's try to be civil."

Ian opened his mouth to say something but then shut it before snapping, "Fine. But I'm not taking anything I said back. Face it, Anthony: this is the end of Smosh."

"So that's it for you? Our relationship doesn't work out and suddenly you're just willing to throw everything away and damn the consequences?"

"Don't you dare suggest I don't give a shit about Smosh," Ian said, his blue eyes flashing. "Because I do. I always have. But if we keep making videos and they turn out to be utter bullshit, do you really think that's worth it? You think the fans are gonna be happy with that?"

"Who says the videos would be bullshit?" Anthony asked indignantly. "You don't think we could work something out?"

"No! For god's sake, Anthony, where the hell have you been the past six months?! We can't do _anything _without fighting about it, much less make decent Smosh videos!"

What Ian was saying finally sunk in for Anthony. "I—I can't lose Smosh, Ian," he said softly, looking at the shiny wood floor at his feet. "It's been my whole life."

For the first time, Ian's expression softened and Anthony was able to glimpse the man he'd fallen wildly in love with. "I know. But we always said it would have to end at some point."

"Not like this," Anthony said adamantly, shaking his head. "You don't get it. I've never even had a real fucking job—what the hell would I do with myself?"

Ian's expression shifted back to one of annoyance. "Well, maybe you should try what I've been doing the last few days and figure something out instead of sitting there and insisting that we can still be friends!"

Anthony blinked and frowned. "You—you've actually been thinking about this?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid. I knew things between the two of us were falling apart. I wanted a backup plan. For the record," he said venomously, "I've found a job writing scripts for another YouTube channel."

The fact that Ian had already found a replacement for Smosh hurt almost as much as some of the things he'd said during their last fight. Anthony was swiftly slipping into a panic. Smosh… ending. What would the fans think? Would they ever get to know the truth, or would the videos just suddenly… stop? "Ian, we can't do this. We just can't!"

"Dear _god, _Anthony!" Ian exclaimed. "Is this really all about Smosh for you? Is that the only damn thing you care about? Because I haven't heard you say a single thing about not wanting our _relationship _to end! What about the fact that we're throwing away seventeen years of friendship?"

Anthony glared at Ian. "Of course I care about that! But after the past six months, I barely even remember what it was like to actually get along with you! It's pretty damn hard to mourn something that's been gone that long. And to be honest, I'm fucking relieved that all this bullshit is finally going to be over!"

No matter how hard Ian was to read at times, his barriers were totally gone in that instant, letting Anthony clearly glimpse his hurt, despair, and hint of agreement at Anthony's words. "Fine," he said, sounding more weary than angry. "Then get out of here, Anthony. We're done."

Anthony stared at his former boyfriend for a long moment, feeling inexplicably as though he needed to memorize every curve and line of his face. He felt like there was a bottomless void in his chest and his heart was now in permanent freefall.

Then he forced himself to turn and leave the apartment—and the life—they'd shared behind him, closing the door on the man he loved and hated more than anyone.


	2. Epiloge: Separate Lives

_Sixteen Months Later_

Ian almost didn't notice the tap on his shoulder. LAX was busier than ever, thanks to the upcoming holidays, so there was no shortage of jostling, bumping, and tapping as people struggled to move by each other in order to make it to their next flight. Nothing, Ian had often noted, was quite as good as an airport at popping personal space bubbles, which was part of why he hated them so much.

Despite that, Ian could definitely tell that he'd been intentionally tapped this time, so he turned to see who was trying to catch his attention. He almost shit himself when he did.

It was Anthony Padilla. Anthony Padilla, who he hadn't seen or talked to in over a year. Anthony Padilla, who still held the title of most influential person in Ian's life.

For a second, Ian's brain refused to believe it actually _was _Anthony. But there was no mistaking him—he looked exactly the same as he had when Ian had last seen him all those months ago. He had the same smiling, puppy-ish eyes and handsome, well-defined face. He hadn't even changed his hairstyle much, though it looked like he'd taken to straightening it out again.

"Anthony?" Ian spluttered. "Holy shit! I wouldn't have expected to see you here! Uh, hi!"

Anthony smiled, actually looking happy to see Ian. _What an oddity. _"Hey, Ian! Jesus, I almost didn't recognize you!"

"Oh, yeah," Ian said with a short laugh, running a hand absentmindedly over his short brown hair. It was strange to think that Anthony wouldn't know he'd gotten a haircut shortly after their breakup—the change had happened a long time ago for Ian.

"It looks good, man!" Anthony said with a thumb's up. Ian could tell, though, that he only kind of meant his words—his preference undoubtedly remained with the bowl cut. "You wanna talk for a little while? I've got, like, a half hour at least till my flight leaves."

Ian nodded, though he inwardly wondered what he was agreeing to. How awkward was this conversation with his ex-boyfriend going to get?

The two moved over toward one of the windows, trying to put a bit of distance between themselves and the crowds of other people waiting at the terminal.

"Gotta love airports, don'tcha?" Anthony said with a sarcastic smile.

Ian snorted and said, "What brings you to this lovely place, Anthony?"

"I'm going to spend the holidays with my girlfriend and her family. They live in Miami."

Ian raised one eyebrow. "Girlfriend, huh?"

Anthony half-smiled. "Yeah."

Ian tried telling his curiosity to fuck off, but it didn't listen, so he said, "Tell me about her."

Anthony's eyebrows jumped, probably in surprise that Ian wanted to talk about this. "Well, her name's Celeste and she's pretty cool." He pulled out his iPhone and had a picture on its screen in five seconds. He handed it to Ian and let him see.

The picture was of Anthony and his girlfriend (that word made Ian feel at least a thousand different things) at the beach on a perfect California day. The girl was sexy as hell, Ian had to admit, with long, white-blond hair, heavily-made-up eyes, and a ton of smooth, tan skin exposed by her scanty purple bikini.

"How long have you guys been together?" Ian asked.

"We started dating back in June and we moved into the same apartment in, like, August or something."

"How come she's not here with you?" Ian looked up at Anthony.

"She caught an early flight a few days ago so she could spend a little extra time with her family."

"Do you like her?" Ian couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah," he said. "Of course. If you met her, you'd probably say she's a lot like Kalel, which I guess she kind of is," Anthony said as he took back his phone. "She's really pretty and feminine and funny and confidant, and I must like that in a woman."

Ian forced himself to smile. "If she makes you happy, man, it's all that matters."

"How about you? Anyone special in your life?"

Ian shrugged. "I've been dating a guy for about a month now, but I don't think that it'll make it to a long-term relationship." He was too much—and simultaneously not enough—like Anthony for it to work, but Ian didn't say that.

"Good, good," Anthony said. The two fell into a slightly awkward silence, and Ian tried to distract himself by glancing around the terminal. He looked back when Anthony spoke again. "And how come you're at the airport today?"

"I'm going to a screenwriter's conference back east."

"Really? You still doing that?"

"Yep. And you?"

"I've actually got this really shitty job editing videos," he said. "I hate it, but it's just something to pay the bills while I'm at college."

Ian started. "College?"

"Yeah. I'm learning video game design and development."

"Ah, of course. Just like you always wanted to." Jesus Christ, this was a lot to take in. Ian couldn't stomach the idea that Anthony's life had changed so much since Ian had last been part of it.

"Yeah, I'm livin' the dream," Anthony said with a small—and, unless Ian was mistaken, not entirely-sincere—grin. "I've only been taking classes since fall of last year, so there's still a lot left to learn. You still got the same job you mentioned that day when we—uh, you know, the job that you told me about?"

Ian didn't miss Anthony's care not to reference the day that they'd officially broken off their relationship. "Nah, that job didn't last very long. I had to move away from comedy 'cause all my stuff turned out too much like Smosh."

The word hung in the air between them along with the hundreds of memories that came with it. "Speaking of which, did you ever see the stuff Alloy did with the channel after we left?"

Ian nodded unhappily. "Yeah, I saw it and… well, I can't say I blame the fans for hating it as much as they did."

"Oh, god, yes," Anthony agreed emphatically. "It was terrible, wasn't it? The videos they made weren't even funny!"

"No." He shook his head ruefully. Last time he'd checked, the Smosh channel was down to a paltry 16 million subs—a mere shade of its former glory. Alloy Media, the company that owned Smosh, still made sketches and put them on the channel, but the project had lost steam after Ian and Anthony left.

"Ian, do you ever wish that things had turned out… differently for us?"

Ian looked directly into Anthony's eyes, which were at their lightest shade of sepia brown in the sunlight from the window. "Yeah, all the time."

Anthony paused, holding Ian's gaze for several moments before he said, "Me too."

"Life's a bitch like that, I guess," Ian said, forcing himself into "whatever" mode.

"Yeah. Um, anyway. I should go find my terminal and make sure I don't miss my flight."

"Okay," Ian said.

For a moment, the two men just stood there, staring at each other with unmistakable regret and nostalgia on their faces. Then Anthony said, "You still got the same number as before?" At Ian's nod, he said, "Well, maybe we should text each other sometime. You know, just to keep up with our lives and everything."

"Yeah, sure."

"It was good talking to you, Ian. Hope your life stays good."

"You too, Anthony," Ian said. He and his ex shook hands like they were strangers, which was possibly the weirdest thing Ian had ever done. "See you around."

Anthony gave him a smile and a wave and then turned and walked away. Ian couldn't keep himself from watching him as he wove through the crowds of people, so he didn't miss when Anthony glanced back one more time, like he was as reluctant to leave as Ian was to see him go. Then he disappeared from Ian's view.


End file.
